


Memories And Hope

by chainedinthesky



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:18:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainedinthesky/pseuds/chainedinthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year before Thomas arrives, a 13-year-old girl is sent into the future, and into the maze. Her name is K - just K. But she is capable of remembering - remembering the books and remembering the movie - and she gives the Gladers the one thing they have never had before: real hope.</p><p>Notes:<br/>1) Nick (original leader of the Glade), Thomas and Teresa do not exist in this story.<br/>2) This is a mash-up of the movie and the books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of a girl from our time, and our world, that was sent into the maze, which shouldn't even exist. It will probably depict of a sibling-like relationship between the OC, Newt and Minho only - I'm not too sure yet. Hope you enjoy!

Her name is K. 

That's all she remembers. 

Strangely, though, it doesn't bother her. 

It should, she knows. But it just doesn't. 

The sound of metal grounding against metal and the harsh echo of chains and pulleys; the stench of the underground and of burnt oil; the fact that she can't remember anything - anything at all - even though her mind works flawlessly, analyzing her surroundings in her mind although she has yet to open her eyes; all these should scare her, should make her curl up in a corner and weep. 

But these don't - they just don't! 

So she simply leans back - on a metal like structure? - and thinks, about everything and anything - from the sight of a forest to calculus, Mathematics. 

She doesn't even bother to open her eyes and observe her surroundings. Somehow, though, she knows - deep inside her heart - that she is in an elevator-like room that is rapidly rising up - at least she can feel that. There is absolutely no reason for her to know that, but she just does. 

Knows it as well as the fact that she knows that if she was to search through her memories, she would not remember anyone - not even her family, even though she has not tried. 

There's a strange calm rooted deeply in her, one in which no doubt can unravel. It flows through her veins, in her blood, and she questions whether it is a natural to be so calm.

She questions it, and she knows that the answer is negative. Again, this does not bother her, even if it should.

She is torn from her thoughts abruptly by a loud clank from above. Finally, she opens her eyes, blinking at the line of light appearing across the ceiling of the elevator-like structure.

She looks around, and dimly notes that she was right - she is in a elevator-room that was previously moving. 

It doesn't matter. She had known she had been right from the start, after all.

It's quite dark, too, she realizes, and so she doesn't bother to scrutinize the boxes by the side of the elevator-room.

Another long moment of silence follows, followed by a barrage of male voices that surprise her, stealing away the peaceful silence and shocking K into jerking upright. There's still no fear, though.

"What happened, shank?"

"Ain't got no idea, bro."

"Why isn't the box opening properly like it usually does?"

"We can't see the shucking greenie, huh?"

There's a brief discussion, and K senses the confusion and slight worry in their voices.

Finally, a gruff voice rings out more loudly than the rest.

"Shut your holes, shuck-faces! Keep yapping, and I'll break ya into half! Now, listen up here, him and I, we'll go down into the box, and get the greenie out here, ya hear me? He's gotta be there, and it probably won't be dangerous, so get back to work while we get him out here! Nothing here to see, slintheads!"

There is definite authority in his voice, singling him out to be a leader, and vague shuffling follows the words - probably the others, whoever they are - moving away.

There's really still no fear, but perhaps the first signs of slight relief that there's finally help.

K tilts her head up as a rope drops into elevator-room, and tanned male with a head of blonde hair enters K's sight.

His back is facing him, but he's holding up a wickedly-sharp knife in one hand, a clear signal to stay back, so K doesn't try anything. Not like she planned to in the beginning, anyway.

A moment later, he turns to her, smirking just slightly as a dark-skinned male jumps down to join him, but K doesn't register that. She doesn't register anything.

It's only then that emotions slam into her, like a dam had just broke to reveal a large wave. Fear, panic, worry, joy; they all battle for dominance in her, and she suddenly feels the stinging sensation of tears at the back of her eyes and a intense need to scream.

But she can only choke out one word, feeling it roll off her tongue, filled with raw emotion that K can't identify.

"Newt."

Then there is no more.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Meetings

K wakes up to the sound of voices, battling to be heard over one another. She lets her eyes remain close, her body still and she listens.

"Who is she?"

"How did she know your name, Newt?"

Newt.

There's something overwhelming important about that name, something significant, something so very important, but something she can't remember.

Where is she?

Who is Newt?

Who is she?

God, she doesn't know.

She can't help it - she wants to stay silent and let them, whoever they are, to assume she is still asleep so she can find out more. But her body doesn't comply with her mind's thoughts and she lets impulse take over, struggling against her restrains - restrains? - and thrashing violently.

"Hey! Hey, calm down, slim it nice and calm, girly." A voice tells her - Asian, her mind provides, as a pair of hands hold her down, keeping her in place.

She opens her eyes frantically, a scream dying out in her throat as another hand covers her mouth firmly.

"Hey, love. Please, you need to calm down. I'm here, nobody's gonna harm you, just relax." Another voice says gently but urgently, as its owner steps into her view. The boy - man - is tall, with a square jaw and a kind yet placating smile. He looks maybe seventeen, but his warm hazel eyes and tousled blond hair make him seem younger, less harsh.

There's something so familiar yet so foreign about the boy that makes her pause and look around.

There are three boys in the room - some sort of poorly built hospital ward - including the blonde. There is that dark-skinned boy with the gruff voice, but K's attention is quickly drawn to the boy next to him; a heavily muscled Asian that must have been the one that called her a girly earlier. He studies K curiously, and she notes that he has purposely rolled up his tight short sleeves to show off big biceps.

They are attractive boys, definitely, but more especially the Asian - who she guesses has a staggering 50 foot tall ego, judging by how he smirks when she eyes him - and blond one. 

K knows him, too. How else could she explain how familiar he is, how his name seems to just out of reach? K knows that she knows him.

But why doesn't she remember?

"Love... are you 'right now?" The blond boy murmurs.

K hears the hesitant concern in his voice, and strangely, warmth blossoms in her heart.

She calms, sighing as she flops back on the hammock she is on, as if she had lost all energy.

"Who are you?" She whispers, and her voice comes out hoarse and scratchy from disuse, but she is obviously referring to the blonde.

He seems surprised, though, and shares a quick look with the other two boys.

"I'm... Newt. But I thought you knew that." He replies, his voice more guarded, colder, perhaps suspicious, even.

"Sorry?" K asks softly, and even though she keeps the confusion and hurt - where did that come from? - from seeping into her voice well, Newt seems to realize she is truly puzzled - which she is.

Who is this boy?

How is he connected with her past?

What is her past?

K searches hysterically for memories, people, faces, but they don't appear, only smudges of colour. It is so odd that it is frightening, for even though K can't remember anyone, her mind works quite well, and when she calls for knowledge, it comes.

"Oh my god." She breathes out, fear clear in her eyes, "No..."

"Hey. Hey, really, slim it," The Asian boy finally says quietly, clapping her on the shoulder, but K flinches away from his touch.

She stares at him, no words forthcoming. She wants to scoot away, but can't, so she settles for squeezing her eyes tightly, ignoring the single lone tear that drips from her cheeks to her neck and disappears into her shirt.

"Uh, it's okay, girly, it's okay to feel scared, I..." He continues, sounding normal, but K can sense how unsure he is, how uncertain. 

She does know him.

K opens her watery eyes to stare at him, a small, timid smile forming.

"Thank you..." She intends to end there, but another name forces its way past her lips, "Min..."

Then she passes out.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Interrogation

The next time K opens her bleary eyes, there is only silence.

Rubbing her eyes, she sighs deeply and reaches out for the plate of food - one plain roll and one small bowl of stew.

Wait, reaches out?

Oh, her restrains are gone now.

In all honesty, it almost seems like the boys she met want her to escape. It makes her suspicious, so she withdraws her hand in worry that the food has been poisoned. K really doesn't want to do what the boys want her to, she has no choice.

So she does, swinging her legs over the hammock. Steadying her hand against the wall of the ward, K stands up.

And falls, anticlimactically.

\-----

It's been an hour since K realized she could not move from her position.

It's another ten minutes before someone pulls her up roughly and forces her into a chair next to the hammock.

\-----

"Why do you remember?"

The boy's tone is flat, emotionless. There is no particular emotion on his face, either, and this makes K want to squirm.

She doesn't, though - even though she's so confused, because this boy has been asking the same question over and over for the past few minutes, and K still does not know what he means. 

What does she remember?

Eagerly - though K berates herself for her hope that surely is to be crushed - K rummages through her memories.

What does she remember?

She doesn't remember, of course.

It's to be expected.

So, as she has been for the past few minutes, she stares back at the boy, impassively. He looks fifteen, with a figure too tall and too skinny. The most revolting thing about him is his large nose - a size of a small fist and resembling a deformed potato.

K doesn't stop staring.

\-----

It takes another thirty times of the same question, over and over - by which the boy is seething with anger - before K cracks.

"Who are you?" Her voice isn't raised - K has made sure of that - but the boy still seems satisfied that she has said something.

"'Name's Gally, though you shuck-face shouldn't know that. Remember that name, shank. You can call me 'Captain Gally'," the boy's sneering by now, and his previous mask of calm seems non-existent.

This boy is arrogant, hot-headed and violent - K guesses.

She's awfully right.

\-----

It takes her a whole lot long before she cracks again, only because a black-haired Asian boy has swapped places with Gally, and she recognizes him, if slightly, because of their one encounter earlier.

She gets a vague feeling of something missing, but since she can't remember her past - none of it at all - she dismisses it.

"My name is K - just K - and I know nothing, so please stop asking me for information I don't have." Her words are confident, though her voice is slightly raspy - she needs water.

The boy seems to act like he has accomplished something, but it's only her name.

Why?

Somehow, he seems to be able to guess what K is thinking, because he explains after a slight hesitation.

"You've been interrogated for almost a day, girly - I'm frankly surprised that shucking builder didn't lose his patient earlier."

"Oh. Do you mean Gally?" K continues speaking, figuring that it's useless trying to hide what little she knows - practically nothing, because it seems the boys are the only ones that can help her - give her water, food and shelter.

"'Righto, girly."

"Don't call me that, " She snaps, then pauses, before continuing, "Who are you? Why can't I remember anything? Where are we?" The questions spill over, one after another, now that she has broken her own 'silence-only' rule.

"It's Minho, and that's normal - not remembering anything, 'cos nobody here knows jack except their names." The boy's - Minho - gaze has sharpened, becoming more wary, just like the other boy who introduced himself earlier - Newt? - had. 

'Why?' She thinks, but she doesn't say anything for another moment, hiding her puzzlement under wraps.

What exactly has she done?

That same nagging sensation of missing a piece of her itches to be acknowledged, but K ignores that.

"K," Minho's voice snaps her back into reality, and she looks at him expectantly, realizing that he has not answered her second question.

"Welcome to the Glade."


	4. Chapter 4 - The Tour

K likes to think she has quite a far bit of patience, but in the end, she resorts to pacing up and down the ward.

It's only when the dark-skinned boy enters the room that she composes herself with great effort, her whole body tensed with the effort of resisting the intense urge to gnaw at her fingernails - probably some sort of nasty habit from her past life, a nervous tick.

There, she has admitted it.

K's nervous - she's scared, anxious, the works.

K has a feeling she's also quite a composed and calm person, but she consoles herself by telling herself that she's probably reacting relatively well for someone who woke up in a foreign environment, with no idea where she is.

No one will answer her questions, either - not Gally, not Minho, not Newt, or the Med-jacks - the 'doctors'.

"No questions until the Tour" is all they'll say.

K, on the other hand, thinks the rule is ridiculous - judging by their rather standard response to her arrival, she's sure some new people must have arrived at this place after the first batch, and those newbies must have been bursting with curiosity, like her.

She can appreciate how it keeps order in this place, though - it's surprising orderly for a place with no adults, and only boys, from what she has gathered.

She can't but question why she's so... special, or strange.Out of a few dozen boys, K's the only girl, and the boys act like she's suspicious and knows something, though K is certain that she herself knows nothing.

Frankly, she's been a turmoil of emotions since she's got here - it's just that she hasn't been showing it.

Maybe she should start too - perhaps they wouldn't be so suspicious of her that way.

\-----

They begin at the Box - closed double doors of metal embedded (in a way) in the ground which were covered in cracking, faded white paint.

Alby gestures to the Box, "This big guy here, we call the Box. 'Sends us a greenie like ya every month, supplies every week - that's how we get our stuff, 'else we'd be dead, though the Glade mostly runs by herself."

"What stuff?" K blurts out curiously.

Alby sends her a sharp look but answers anyway, "Like clothes, food, some stuff we request."

"Stuff you request?"

"'Right. We can send up a request list when the box goes up - after we get supplies or greenies, or both - but we don't always get the stuff - ya know, depends on 'em. That's your last question, shank, or I'll send you to the Slammer for a day - and no questions answered. No questions till the tour's over, slinthead."

"What's the Slam-" K starts to ask, but cuts off when Alby glares at her. She rolls her eyes and makes an exaggerated gesture of zipping up her lips.

Alby just glares.

After a moment, he purses his lips and says tersely, pointing vaguely in the general direction of the Slammer, "Our jail, for when you break our rules, or possibly Banishing."

K raises her eyebrows at him, asking him a silent question.

Alby snaps, "No shucking questions! But ya'll get banished if you break our rules, 'specially our Number One Rule - don't go into the maze. Break it, and even if you don't get killed by Grievers, we'll kill you ourselves. Ya hear me?"

A pause.

K nods, even though she's brimming with unspoken questions.

"Three rules here - One, don't go into the maze. Never. Two, no harming other Gladers - the people here. Three, everyone does their part - ain't got no time for freeloaders here. Got me, shank?"

Another nod.

"Alright, the maze's out there, behind the doors. Shifts everyday, the maze. We're still trying to find a way out - that's our lifelong goal. Runners run the maze - suicide job, ya can call it. Right, the doors. Open and close morning and night - protects us - though they're huge and look centuries-old, believe it or not."

With that, K takes a proper, good look of the Glade.

The floor of the courtyard, made of many stone bricks, was in need of great repair - they were cracked, and filled with weeds and long grasses. Not far away was an oddly-shaped, poorly built building of sort that was made of wood. There were trees all around in random spots of the Glade, their roots gnarled and un-kept. Another corner of the Glade was filled haphazardly with plants of all sorts - some of which K recognized as corn, tomato, and various fruit types - the garden. Nearby were many pens containing domestic animals such as cows, pigs and sheep - a farm.

Not bad for a place mended fully by 40 or so teenage boys - kids.

"Now, North-east is the Gardens - water's pumped to us from there too, plus we don't know jack where it came from, so don't ask. North-west is the Homestead, yes, that wooden building right there, bit odd-shaped, but works - where we sleep, most of us anyway. At the back's the slammer. South East is the Bloodhouse - our animals 'raised and killed there, for food. South-west's the Deadheads - some forest area, graveyard's at the back, you can go there to hang out, rest, and stuff. Yea, some Gladers die - mostly from panic - they try to off themselves, say it's better to be dead than stuck in a maze, other's to Grievers, few to some ideas we had to get out of here." Alby explains, gesturing appropriately.

He pauses for a moment later, letting the information sink in.

"Okay..." K says slowly, feeling the need to say something - anything.

"So, Rule Number Three, everyone does their part. You'll get to try out the jobs with the different keepers - leaders of sort - in the next two weeks. We've got builders, or Bricknicks - 'bout the same - sloppers, baggers, cooks, track-hoes, med-jacks, slicers - somethin'll stick, always does. You'll start with Zart in the gardens - he's the Keeper of the track-hoes-"

Alby's cut off suddenly by piercing masculine screams, raw pain echoing with each scream.

He stands up instantly, jogging to the scene of the commotion without looking back.

With dread building up rapidly in her, K follows.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Job

There's a terrible odor of sweat, grime and dirt, K realizes, as she jostled her way past all the boys gathered in front of the maze doors.

The smell of dirty boys.

It's such a normal, mundane smell, like the smell of a gym room - though K has no idea how she knows that, because she can't remember having gone to a proper gym room - that it comforts her, in a twisted sort of manner.

"Alby! What's going on?" K whispers-yells at the dark-skinned boy once she has reached him.

The boys send her dirty yet curious, if perverted looks as she pushes past them.

She subconsciously whether she is pretty.

It's such a ridiculous thought, especially since something bad has definitely happened.

"The doors are closing, but they're still not here yet!" 

"The doors may close before they come back..."

"Enough. They'll make it." Alby says firmly and authoritatively, but there's an undertone of worry in his voice.

"What's wrong?" K asks, if slightly nervously. 

"The doors close in 10 minutes, 15 tops. And Ty and James aren't back." Alby replies.

"Who?" 

"They're runners."

"'Right. So?" 

"So? If they don't get back in time, they die! Nobody survives a night in the maze!" Alby raises his voice, and it's only then that K realizes just how much pressure is on his shoulders, how incredible a person he is, for being so young, and yet being able shoulder so much weight without cracking. 

Maybe he has.

K doesn't want to think about that anymore, so she focuses, instead, on trying not to shrink back on herself fearfully.

She nods.

\-----

"I can see 'em!" Someone yells from the crowd. K recognizes that voice. Minho. 

Alby strides forward quickly, and the Gladers reluctantly make a path for him.

"Minho," he acknowledges briefly. K peers into the maze through the half-closed doors of the maze and sees a raggedly-looking boy stumbling around the corner, half-dragging, half-carrying another boy. K can only make out a smear of blood on the injured boy, but his screams are clear in the silence of the night.

"Ty! What happened?"

"Ty, you have to leave him!"

"RUN!" 

Shouts began as the doors continue to close.

The Med-jacks, Clint and Jeff, hurry forward, looking grim.

"Aren't you gonna help them? Something? They'll die!" Fear resounds in K's voice, but she doesn't bother trying to sound calmer.

How could the Gladers just leave their friends to die?

"No," is all Alby says. There is contempt - contempt that K doesn't understand - in his voice. Is he angry with her? Why?

"But you just said, they'll die!" 

"YES! Yes, but if we help then, we'll just die too. There's no time," Alby's words are bitter. K glances at Minho, but his head is hung low, his face expressionless.

She says nothing, even when Newt comes forward and claps her on the shoulder, her heart beating too rapidly - buh-bump, buh-bump, buh-bump.

\-----

There's a gust of strong wind blowing now, shaking leaves off trees.

K watches the leaves swirl in the wind, as if taking away the lives of Ty and James.

Please, let them make it, she thinks - prays.

\-----

The boys are nearing the exit now.

They's so near, but so far - so very far.

The doors are almost closed now.

"1 minute, tops." Someone whispers.

\-----

K doesn't think.

She just sprints and pulls.

\-----

"Calm down and stay still." K's on her knees, kneeling beside the injured boy - James. His left arm is grossly broken, the bone sticking out of flesh and the wound spewing blood, forming an ever-growing pool of blood beneath James. She feels calm, though, her terror and panic distanced from herself, her only focus to helping James.

Her mind spins quickly, and she lets instincts take over.

First, she has to stop the blood flow, or James'll die of blood loss.

She tears the fabric on the wound hastily, ignoring the boy's moan. He's writhing in pain, so she pins him down, shooting a glance at Minho and Newt, who quickly hold him down.

"Clint, pass me the towel, quick." K orders the med-jack who's trying in vain to stop the blood flow by pressing a towel down on the wound.

K suspects it's only worsening the wound. 

She takes the blood-stained towel without a word, folding it once and wounding it around James' arm, about 3 inches from the site of the wound. Then, she quickly straps off her belt, and fastens it on the towel.

K pauses and scans the boys around her, snatching a spear from the hands of a boy she doesn't recognize.

Jeff takes it when K throws it at him. He stares at her questioningly for a moment, before he understands, snapping the spear into two pieces and passing one to K.

She slips it under her belt and twists, looking on with satisfaction as James' arm becomes purple-colored beneath the towel.

K laughs - somewhat hysterically - because she has absolutely no idea how she knows how to make a tourniquet, yet she has. 

It's ridiculous.

\-----

"Treat him for shock," K calls back to the boys carrying James back to the Homestead for medical attention, as she notices the tell-tale signs of shock - cold, clammy skin with a blue shade, accelerated breathing and loss of consciousness.

K takes a deep breath, leaning against a nearby tree bark as the boys scatter.

She only notices Alby when he taps her on the shoulder.

Is she that tired?

"You should get some sleep." He says cautiously.

"Yea."

"But, I was wondering how a Greenie like you would know how to do that."

"It's K, but instincts, I guess."

Alby's studying her, and she can't read his expression.

"Well then, K, you're now our newest Med-jack."


	6. Chapter 6 - The Locket

K's head pounds when she wakes up, her back digging uncomfortable against the hard floor of the Glade.

She couldn't be bothered to find a hammock for herself the night before, opting to sleep on the floor for a night, but now she regrets it.

K sighs and musses up her hair - raven black and long enough to touch the small of her back when tied up in a high ponytail - to remove as much dust and dirt as possible.

She really needs a shower.

\----- 

"Newt, what's your job?" K asks curiously as they walk to the Homestead for her training with the Med-jacks - Alby had decided it was pointless for K to try out the other jobs since she already had one.

"Track-hoe." The boy answers shortly, a shadow passing his face, and K has a feeling she has hit a sore spot. Why?

"Oh," is all she can think of saying, and she winces at how dumb her response sounds. In fact, come to think of it, she doesn't even know what a Track-hoe is.

"So, greenie, you 'right with the job?" Newt says, hurrying to change the subject.

K shrugs in response.

"Y'know, if you really don't like the job, tell me or Alby. 'S fine, you can try out the other jobs - in fact, I highly recommend that, hm?" Newt continues.

"Nah, really it's fine. But I don't mind trying out some of the other jobs. At that, mind telling me all the jobs? Alby and I were kinda interrupted yesterday."

"Yea, sure. So builders and bricknicks, sorta the same - they build stuff, repair stuff, yea, duh. Gally's the Keeper. Baggers're the ones who deal with dead bodies - creepy fellows, by the way. Also act as guards, police - but don't look so freaked out, ain't that much crime here. We need cooks, of course - no explanation needed for that one, but the Keeper's Siggy - we call 'im Frypan. Med-jacks - the doctors, 'cos. Clint's in charge there, but ain't much to lead. Just Jeff and you, now. There're the Slicers - don't just slice up the meat to eat, but feed 'em livestock too - Winston's the fellow to look for - loves blood, that guy. The track-hoes, too - the gardeners, I guess we till, weed, plant and harvest, the works. Zart's the Keeper. Oh yea, the Sloppers, too. They basically clean up after us, do dirty tasks - nobody'll like that - also our lowest ranked job, to be frank. But most of us don't bother that much, yea?"

"And runners, too." K adds. 

For a moment, Newt's easy smile morphs into a frown, or a scowl - he clearly has a problem with the runners, or maybe just the maze.

"So, I didn't take you for a guy into gardening." K tries, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden tension in the air.

Newt shrugs, the dark look never fading, "Well, I had another job once... just swapped."

"Oh," K says, distractedly. Her mind is working overtime. The only thing - as far as K knows - that really riles Newt up is the maze, and if his previous job riles him up just as much, a good guess would be that his previous job is involved with the maze. Only the runners are involved with the maze in the Glade.

So was Newt a runner once?

"My bloody leg," says Newt grudgingly, as if he had read her thoughts, "You're quite the sharp greenie, eh?"

It's only then that K realizes that Newt has a limp - was she really that caught up with the days' events and her own emotions?

"Oh."

K can't think of anything else to say, so she awkwardly asks. "Can I have a shower?"

\----- 

"So you're sure you wanna shower in an unlocked room with a bunch of hormonal boys who haven't seen a girl in ages?" Newt teases, and for some reason, it seems so natural, so familiar.

K smiles faintly, "Stand guard for me then, Mr Knight-In-Shining-Armour."

"I think the context is completely wrong to call me that." Newt chuckles. K punches him on the shoulder with a small laugh.

They're standing before the showers, and K is horrified to see that the doors can't be locked.

"Well, will do. I won't peep - you're too young anyway. Oh, there's a cracked mirror of sort in there, too, so you can check out yourself."

K nods, and pauses before asking, "How old do you think I am?"

Another shadow passes across Newt's face. He clenches his jaw, and hisses out, "Too young for this, but 13, 14 tops."

K feels strangely touched by his genuine concern, and squeezes his shoulder before entering the showers.

\----- 

K stares at herself, naked in the mirror.

Long locks of curly black hair, deep-set brown eyes with flecks of gold, pouty lips. Asian.

She doesn't have the perfect figure, either, but fit enough, she supposes.

Attractive, to a certain extent, she allows, as she roams the only pair of clothes she owns as she shrugs them on - a cropped tank top, short shorts, combat boots and finger-less gloves - all black and made of leather.

But that's not what changes her attention - it shouldn't, after all, because she's supposed to know how she looks well enough, doesn't she?

It's that locket hanging around her neck - the one that's impossible to yank off her neck no matter how hard she tries.

Her hands fumble with the lock and when it finally gives way, she breathes in sharply.

There are only two things in the locket - a picture and a note.

She studies a picture, in which she can't be more than 11. She's been caught mid-laugh, obviously, oddly balancing on a younger Minho's back. His left arm is slung casually on younger Newt's shoulder, but Newt is turned the other way, laughing at someone who's been cropped out of the picture.

Who are they to her?

How are they connected to her unknown past?

So many questions, but so few answers.

She takes a shaky breath, ignoring Newt's threats to open the door if she doesn't hurry up.

The note's handwritten, not by one person but a few - at least 2:

"K, don't ever forget. Remember. You're the key." Three simple sentences that mean so much, yet so little.

"K, it'll be okay. K, we're gonna beat it, remember? He's gonna be okay." A boy's voice - so familiar yet so foreign - but cracking, like he's trying not to sob.

A bitter, wet laugh, "Yea, I know. WICKED is good."

Flashes of light.

A room.

Men in masks.

"Subject... isn't immune... control... the girl..."

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." K's voice. Another boy - his back turned on her - rocking back and forth, back and forth. His eyes are empty, even though K can't see it.

Flashbacks, K thinks vaguely.

Then there's only darkness.


	7. Chapter Seven - The Investigation

K wakes up slowly, first with the feeling of rocking slightly in someone's arms, then the body warmth and finally the familiar (why?) scent of grass, nature, sweat and boy.

Voices start to filter in slowly.

It's Newt and Alby.

"I don't know what happened. She went in for a shower, and I called for her after a while, but she didn't respond. After an hour I got the key for the door from Gally-shuck, and I found her passed out," says Newt. A pause, then, shakily: "And... this."

I assume they are talking about the locket. Or more like, the note... and the photo.

"That's... you and Minho!" replies Alby, voice raised with confusion and agitation.

"I know." Newt again, grimly.

"Just... just how do you shanks know her?"

There is silence, a silence that almost literally screams the words, "I don't know." that Newt doesn't want to say.

She remains still in Newt's arms for a little while more, enjoying the comfort as it lasts, then pretends to flutter her eyelashes, saying in a voice deliberately drowsy. K hopes it makes the cut.

"W-what?"

"Hey, K." K looks up at Newt's tense voice. His face is equally strained.

When she turns her head to other way, she finds Alby staring back at her, eyes hard. His jaw is clenched and K suspects that Alby would have probably shook her if he could.

"Just who are you?" He hisses through gritted teeth.

A chill runs down her spine and K is suddenly afraid. It must show on her face, because Newt says tiredly for Alby to save the grilling for later, when they reach the Homestead, and for some reason, an image - unbidden - arises from her mind; Newt, with his hand running through his hair and over his face.

K bites her lips, "I know you from before." It's a statement directed to Newt, but Alby is there, constantly listening in, and Newt, too, notices.

"Well, that one's pretty obvious." He answers.

"Yes." K murmurs, "but sometimes I feel connected... to both of you. And-and memories - you say so - but then I wake up and I can't remember them anymore and I'm so sorry I can't help you but I'm not even supposed to remember, right?"

Even she can hear how weary and (kind of) frightened her voice is.

Alby face has softened when she twists slightly to face him, "Look, Alby. I know I've been a little strange, but I swear-I swear I don't know anything. Just... little things. And only Newt and Minho. I don't know why either."

She ranting and Alby releases a breath loudly, "Yes, I know. But ya'know, this place is built around trust, and you haven't done anything exactly wrong, so I guess I can still say I kinda understand. It's hard here, especially the first few days. So I believe you."

K can feel her lips lifting into a half-smile, but Alby isn't done.

"BUT if you do anything out of order, know that we'll be extra cautious with you. We're just going to the Homestead for a gathering to convince the rest exactly that. I mean, like what I said earlier-like that you haven't done anything wrong."

K giggles slightly and rests her head against Newt's chest, and even though she should say she's fine and walk on her own, she can't seem to form the words.

\-----

"So you mean we've all just gonna leave her like that, on her own, and stuff? What makes you think she's not lying, huh? She's a girl and she's messing everything up. We should just banish her or something! She broke the rule too." Gally fires at Alby while K sits, trying not to fidget, in a chair in the middle of the room, reminding herself that she can't say anything.

"Look, this gathering is just about the locket; the note and the photo. Seems to me we're all pretty good friends, so she can't be all bad. And that note... I have something to say about that." Newt says.

A pause and he continues: "Look, that handwriting? That's mine. And Minho's. And not just us, Gally. You too." He's looking Gally straight in the eye, while the other male gapes like a fish, taking the note when Newt passes it to him again, even though it's already gone round the room once. Gally studies it, once, twice, and then looks up in disbelief.

"That... It... It's really mine," he admits, glancing at me with an unreadable expression.

"And what makes you think that she knows something, when we don't?" Newt continues.

"Or do you?" Alby interrupts. 

Gally glares at him, "Of cos' not, please."

"Wait, should we actually be discussing this without Minho?" Someone - Clint, K thinks - asks.

"It's fine. I'll fill him in later," Alby answers dismissively - which is rather rude, come to think of it, though Clint just nods politely. 

"I think Gally's proven himself. No need to question him," A boy with an acne-covered face says, nodding at Gally who does the same back.

Alby nods, too, and another boy with hair sticking out everyone from his body and a full beard that probably made him look older than he was spoke up.

"Yea, Winston. But we should give the girl a chance too, figure this mystery out after. Maybe Minho could give us some clues, yea? "

K half-smiles at him. 

"Frypan's right. And she did help Steve." Another boy with a bored expression and black hair calls out.

One by one, the boys agree with him - Zart, as K finds out later - and she can't help the relief that floods her, but it's not over.

Eventually they tackle the fact that she broke a rule and thereby saved Steve. Gally is oddly passive, and the rest of them are split quite evenly against and with her.

In the end they decide two days in the Slammer with only a meal per day - "She's a girl, after all." (Not that K isn't offended, but rejecting the idea would be causing trouble for herself, and she's not stupid), and when they all leave the Homestead, she lingers behind with Newt, slightly worried about her punishment.

Could be worse, though.


End file.
